The incidents in this, and the other ballad of "St. George and the Dragon," are chiefly taken from the old story-book of the Seven Champions of Christendome; which, though now the plaything of children, was once in high repute. Bp. Hall, in his Satires, published in 1597, ranks

"St. George's sorell, and his cross of blood," among the most popular stories of his time; and an ingenious critic thinks that Spencer himself did not disdain to borrow hints from it; though I much doubt whether this popular romance were written so early as the Faery Queen.

The author of this book of the Seven Champions was one Richard Johnson, who lived in the reigns of Elizabeth and James, as we collect from his other publications; viz.-" The nine worthies of London: 1592." 4to." The pleasant walks of Moor fields: 1607," 4to." A crown garland of Goulden Roses, gathered, &c. 1612," 8vo.-" The life and death of Rob. Cecill, E. of Salisbury, 1612," 4to-" The Hist. of Tom of Lincoln," 4to. is also by R. J. who likewise reprinted Don Flores of Greece," 4to.

The Seven Champions, though written in a wild inflated style, contains some strong Gothic painting; which seems for the most part, copied from the metrical romances of former ages. At least the story of St. George and the fair Sabra is taken almost verbatim from the old poetical legend of " Sir Bevis of Hampton."

This very antique poem was in great fame in Chaucer's time [see above pag. 220.], and is so continued till the introduction of printing, when it ran through several editions, two of which are in black letter, 4to." imprinted by Wyllyam Copland," without date; containing great variations.

• Mr. Wharton. Vid. Observations on the Fairy Queen, 2 vol. 1762, 12mo. passim.

As a specimen of the poetic powers of this very old rhimist, and as a proof how closely the author of the Seven Champions has followed him, take a description of the dragon slain by Sir Bevis.

-Whan the dragon, that foule is,
Had a syght of Syr Bevis,
He cast up a loude cry,

As it had thondred in the sky;
He turned his bely towarde the son,
It was greater than any tonne :
His scales was bryghter then the glas,
And harder they were than any bras:
Betwene his shulder and his tayle,
Was forty fote withoute fayle.
He waltred out of his denne,
And Bevis pricked his stede then,
And to hym a spere he thraste
That all to shyvers he it braste :
The dragon then gan Bevis assayle,
And smote Syr Bevis with his tayle :
Then downe went horse and man,

And two rybbes of Bevis brused than.

After a long fight, at length, as the dragon was preparing to fly, Sir Bevis

"Hit him under the wynge,
As he was in his flyenge,

There he was tender without scale,
And Bevis thought to be his bale.
He smote after, as I you save,
With his good sword Morglaye.
Up to the hiltes Morglay yode
Through harte, lyver, bone, and bloude;
To the ground fell the dragon,
Great joye Syr Bevis begon.
Under the scales al on hight:
He smote off his head forth right,
And put it on a spere: &c."

Sign K. iv.

Sir Bevis's dragon is evidently the parent of that in the Seven Champions, see Chap. III. viz. The dragon no sooner had a sight of him [St. George] but he gave such a terrible peal, as though it had thundered in the elements. Betwixt his shoul

ders and his tail were fifty feet in distance, his scales glistering as bright as silver, but far more hard than brass; his belly of the colour of gold, but bigger than a tun. Thus weltered he from his den, &c. ... The champion... gave the dragon such a thrust with his spear, that it shivered in a thousand pieces whereat the furious dragon so fiercely smote him with his venomous tail, that down fell man and horse in which fall two of St. George's ribs were so bruised, &c.-At length.

St.

George smote the dragon under the wing where it was tender without scale, whereby his good sword Ascalon with an easie passage went to the very hilt through both the dragon's heart, liver, bone, and blood. Then St. George cut off the dragon's head, and pitcht it upon the truncheon of a spear, &c."

The History of the Seven Champions, being written just before the decline of books of chivalry, was never, I believe, translated into any foreign language but "Le Roman de Beuves of Hantonne" was published at Paris in 1502, 4to. Let. Gothique.

:

The learned Selden tells us, that about the time of the Norman invasion was Bevis famous with the title of Earl of Southampton, whose residence was at Duncton in Wiltshire: but he observes, that the monkish enlargements of his story have made his very existence doubted. See Notes on PolyOlbion, Song III.

This hath also been the case of St. George himself, whose martial history is allowed to be apocryphal. But, to prove that there really existed an orthodox Saint of this name (although little or nothing, it seems, is known of his genuine story) is the subject of" An Historical and Critical Inquiry into the Existence and Character of Saint George, &c. By the Rev. J. Milner, F.S.A. 1792, 8vo."

The Equestrian Figure worn by the Knights o the Garter, has been understood to be an emblem of the Christian warrior, in his spiritual armour, vanquishing the old serpent.

But on this subject the inquisitive reader may consult "A Dissertation on the Original of the Equestrian Figure of the George and of the Garter, ensigns of the most noble order of that name. Illustrated with copper-plates. By John Pettingal, A.M. Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, London, 1753," 4to. This learned and curious work the author of the Historical and Critical Inquiry would have done well to have seen.

It cannot be denied, but that the following ballad is for the most part modern: for which reason it would have been thrown to the end of the volume, had not its subject procured it a place here.

LISTEN, lords, in bower and hall,

I sing the wonderous birth

Of brave St. George, whose valorous arm Rid monsters from the earth:

Distressed ladies to relieve

He travell'd many a day; In honour of the Christian faith, Which shall endure for aye.

In Coventry sometime did dwell
A knight of worthy fame,
High steward of this noble realme;
Lord Albert was his name.

He had to wife a princely dame,
Whose beauty did excell.
This virtuous lady, being with child,
In sudden sadness fell:

For thirty nights no sooner sleep Had clos'd her wakeful eyes, But, lo! a foul and fearful dream Her fancy would surprize:

She dreamt a dragon fierce and fell Conceiv'd within her womb; Whose mortal fangs her body rent Ere he to life could come.

All woe-begone, and sad was she;
She nourisht constant woe:
Yet strove to hide it from her lord,
Lest he should sorrow know.

In vain she strove; her tender lord,
Who watch'd her slightest look,
Discover'd soon her secret pain,
And soon that pain partook.

And when to him the fearful cause
She weeping did impart,
With kindest speech he strove to heal
The anguish of her heart.

Be comforted, my lady dear,
Those pearly drops refrain ;
Betide me weal, betide me woe,
I'll try to ease thy pain.

And for this foul and fearful dream,
That causeth all thy woe,
Trust me I'll travel far away
But I'll the meaning knowe.

Then giving many a fond embrace,
And shedding many a teare,
To the weird lady of the woods,
He purpos'd to repaire.

To the weird lady of the woods,
Full long and many a day,
Thro' lonely shades and thickets rough
He winds his weary way.

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The following ballad is given (with some corrections) from two ancient black-letter copies in the Pepys Collection: one of which is in 12mo, the other in folio.

Or Hector's deeds did Homer sing;
And of the sack of stately Troy,
What griefs fair Helena did bring,
Which was Sir Paris' only joy:
And by my pen I will recite

St. George's deeds, an English knight.

Against the Sarazens so rude

Fought he full long and many a day; Where many gyaunts he subdu'd,

In honour of the Christian way.
And after many adventures past
To Egypt land he came at last.

Now, as the story plain doth tell,
Within that country there did rest
A dreadful dragon fierce and fell,
Whereby they were full sore opprest:
Who by his poisonous breath each day,
Did many of the city slay.

The grief whereof did grow so great
Throughout the limits of the land,
That they were wise men did intreat
To shew their cunning out of hand;
What way they might this fiend destroy,
That did the country thus annoy.

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No means there were, as they could hear,
For to appease the dragon's rage,

But to present some virgin clear,
Whose blood his fury might asswage;
Each daye he would a maiden eat,
For to allay his hunger great.

This thing by art the wise-men found,
Which truly must observed be;
Wherefore throughout the city round
A virgin pure of good degree
Was by the king's commission still
Taken up to serve the dragon's will.
Thus did the dragon every day

Untimely crop some virgin flowr,
Till all the maids were worn away,

And none were left him to devour : Saving the king's fair daughter bright, Her father's only heart's delight.

She is, quoth he, my kingdom's heir: O let us all be poisoned here,

Ere she should die, that is

my dear.

Then rose the people presently,
And to the king in rage they went;
They said his daughter dear should dye,
The dragon's fury to prevent:
Our daughters all are dead, quoth they,
And have been made the dragon's prey:

And by their blood we rescued were,

And thou hast sav'd thy life thereby ; And now in sooth it is but fair, For us thy daughter so sould die. O save my daughter said the king; And let ME feel the dragon's sting.

Then fell fair Sabra on her knee,
And to her father dear did say,
O father, strive not thus for me,
But let me be the dragon's prey;